He Called her Jeanie

(The writer's grandfather. And loving Dad to Jeanie.)

It was 1931.

Babies were not supposed to be born to single mothers.

When a young woman found herself “in that condition”, she was sent away.  

Far away.

Not spoken about.

And there was shame. A lot of shame.

So what about the child? Innocent…having no part in the means of her existence.  

God, in His mercy, had a plan. Long before she ever was, He formed a family of broken pieces. An abandoned child, a couple unable to conceive.

He was a furniture delivery man. She was a homemaker. They had a garden.

She became theirs when she was only three days old. She would be their only child.

Her mother cared for her and taught her things a young lady should know.  Cooking, cleaning, sewing, ironing.

But she was daddy’s girl.

He was the one she went to for everything. He adored her and said yes when mother said no.

He called her Jeanie. His endearing love for her was evident with the adding of “ie’ to her middle name. He always called her Jeanie. Mother only used her first name.

When she wanted a bicycle and mother said no…he bought her one. When she wanted to play the clarinet, mother said no…but he made sure she was in the band. When mother wanted to sew her prom dress, daddy gave her cash for a store bought one…made of the finest satin.

Things that we speak freely about these days were off limit topics back then. Adoption was such a topic. They never told her she was adopted. She learned of it when a family member blurted it out one day.

The icy sting of reality never left. She loved her parents. But now she was curious…and hurting.

She didn’t ask questions. They never knew that she knew. The longing to know her truth grew over the years.

Greater than her longing however, was her love for her father. It would hurt him deeply if he knew she was searching for information about her biological parents. Records from that era were sealed. She was left wondering.

Her daddy lived a long life and closed his eyes for the last time when he was well into his eighties. Jeanie felt lost. Again. Orphaned for a second time.

She faithfully cared for her mother until her passing. But it was him that she missed. He was the one that made her feel loved. And whole.

A law was passed some years later that opened adoption records. She learned who her birth parents were. Teenagers. An unlikely pairing.

Her teen mother later married, having more children. She passed before they could meet. And though contact was made with extended family members, there was no interest in getting acquainted.

Her birth father’s life tragically ended at a young age. No contact was made with his family.

I find it remarkable in this life that some people, who are supposed to love you, can choose to ignore your existence.

While others can choose to love you and leave you yearning for them until your very own last day.

Love bears all things…believes all things…hopes all things…endures all things.

Love never fails.

Love called her Jeanie.